


Life Behind the Scenes

by lulu0917



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: AU, Adventure, Arranged Marriages, Betrayal, Comfort, Enemies, F/M, Friendship, Honesty, Hurt, Loyalty, Marriage of Convenience, OOC, Older times, Pain, Royals, Royalty, Swords, Templars, Trust, Wars, battles, respect, tribes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29746140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulu0917/pseuds/lulu0917
Summary: Living in the mountains is hard and hunting for food is harder.Jace is the son of the tribe leader and is close friends with his battle-buddies, Alec, Jem, and Simon.Across the region, things go downhill for Princess Clarissa, her father, and Jon, her little brother. Them being a target is no surprise since every powerful, rich royal family usually is one.What happens a gold-eyed man becomes their savior when they're abducted?What happens when Alec's sweetheart is burned to death?How loud does Isabelle scream to the world that she didn't poison that man?How many traitors is Jace going to find in his tribe?How hard is Clary going to fight so Kaelie doesn't marry Jace as his father wants?How loud is Clary going to cry when she finds out Jace may be stuck in a marriage with another woman, after Clary married him and birthed him a child, now pregnant with his second?How painful is it going to be when the tribe of Alicante constantly loses a loved one to death?It doesn't matter what they get thrown at them; because they are the Herondales, and together, they can bring justice and peace to the world and happiness and love to their home.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Maia Roberts, Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Céline Herondale/Stephen Herondale, Jem Carstairs/Tessa Gray, Lydia Branwell & Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis & Isabelle Lightwood
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**The plot was developed after I watched this Turkish TV series named Dirilis Ertugrul. Note, don’t judge the story until reading a good couple chapters.**

**Just something you should know, there’s a word you may not recognize; alps. In this story it means warriors. An alp is one warrior.** **Also, the tents are not like the ones you may imagine. These ones are large and round, like nomad tents. They're all the same in size except for the tribe leader and his family’s, that one is a three-roomed tent.** **Just for clarification =)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**1225, Alicante Tribe**

Lucian thrust the long piece of metal into the fire pit. After a moment, he pulled it out using the tongs, then set it down on the wooden stump. Lord Jonathan, or as he prefered, Jace, was already prepared to start, mallet in hand. 

He picked up the other one and gave it to Lucian who had one hand on the pliers to steady the metal, the other getting ready to swing and hit. Jace nodded, “I’m ready whenever you are.” 

Lucian went first. He struck the metal soon-to-be sword with the mallet and let out a grunt, then allowed Jace to have a turn. They kept at it, molding the metal into the shape of the weapon desired. 

Soon, it was all bent up and curved into a sword. The hot metal sizzled as Lucian dunked it into the water. 

Jace grinned, “Even the iron couldn’t stand your hits, Luke.” He used his forearm to wipe the sweat off his forehead and put his mallet down while Lucian was busy unwrapping a sheepskin package. 

He took out a sheathed sword and held it horizontally with his two hands. He walked up to Jace, “Take a look at this one,” He said to him. Jace stared in awe, then took the sword and unsheathed it to look at the blade. 

Nice, smooth, silver, sharp. 

“This is magnificent. I pity the enemy who this will be the death of,” Jace grinned. 

“It’s a sword deserving of you. May it be wrath to the tyrants and the sound of the oppressed by your hands.”

“Thank you, so very much.”   
  


Luke shook his head. “I’m ready to sacrifice myself for you, Jace.” 

Jace unbuckled his own sword from the side of his belt, then fastened the new one respectively. 

He gave the old one to Luke, who put it off to the side. Luke went over to the clay jug swinging by the metal chain hanging from the pole. He pulled it off and took a drink of water. 

Turning to Jace, he held it out so he could wash. While pouring water for Jace to wash his hands and face, he nodded to the three individuals packing their horses and weapons. “What’s the matter with your men? They seem restless.” 

Jace glanced at Alec, Simon, and Jem. “We’re going hunting. They’re getting ready,” He replied, using the towel to dry off.

“Are there any animals left to even hunt in this famine?” 

Jace picked up his bow and attached his quiver to the other side of his hip. “You’re right, but hunting keeps the Alps fit.”

Luke lowered his voice, “It’s better if we find a way to keep the tribe alive as well.”

“That will only be determined how at the headquarters tomorrow,” Jace assured. 

Jace wore his bow on his back as Luke spoke, “If we don’t migrate from this highland before winter comes, we’ll be doomed. You and I both know it. But if you say you might know a solution, tell us.” 

“My brother Henry knows more in this matter than I do. If you wish, speak to him.”

“With Henry?” He asked. He threw his head back in a mock laugh. “No, he’d never breathe a single word.” 

Jace shook his head and chuckled lightly.

* * *

Charlotte took a drink of the soft, creamy yogurt as she watched her husband, Henry lay a sheepskin sheet flat out on the grass, just outside their tent. “Is this what you bought for forty coins?” She asked, her brown eyes sharp. 

He turned to her, his messy red hair flying in the wind, “This, is called a map.” 

“What is it used for?”

“Look, we are here,” He pointed to a place colored into the map. “Right at where these mountains are.” 

He looked up at his wife, then back down. He pointed to another place, “This is Mounaterra. This is Drusan. There is Irocia over here. And this, this is Cavalon, where the king’s palace resides.” 

Charlotte rolled her eyes, “You need to let go of the kings and the khans and tell us where the tribe should migrate to, Henry. The elders are having a blonde moment, and your father is quiet. He’s sitting in his tent like a groomed owl.” 

Henry took Charlotte’s hand and squeezed lightly. “Where is this place?” She asked. 

“Everyone will know tomorrow at headquarters,” Henry assured.

A smile slowly spread on Charlotte’s face. “So you  _ did  _ find a place?” Henry rolled up the map and grinned mischievously. 

“Where is it? Please tell me!” He was about to answer when he saw Jace wearing his bow walking out of the blacksmith booth towards the horses and his three battle-buddies. 

Charlotte followed his gaze and stood with him. “Jace!” Henry hollered. He didn’t hear him. “Jace!” He tried again. Jace looked up. “Where are you going?” Henry asked his younger sibling. 

“We’re going hunting, brother!” He shouted.

“This is not the time to go hunting, we have headquarters tomorrow!” Henry threw his arms up.

Jace smiled, “Let the headquarters be yours and the hunt be mine, brother.” 

Henry chuckled and Charlotte smiled slightly.

“Alright, but don’t go too far. Go quickly and return quickly,” He replied, just as Kaelie, Charlotte’s younger sister, walked around the side of the tent holding some rugs. 

She saw Jace and smiled excitedly, fixed her veil, then walked forward to get closer to him, she watched as he checked the buckles on his horse. 

Charlotte noticed and watched the two with a smirk. Jace went to the other side of his horse, oblivious, to where Simon, Alec, and Jem were waiting. Jem was holding a chunk of dried meat, and he sniffed it. 

Simon laughed, “What are you doing with that beef? We’re going hunting, did you forget?” 

Jace chuckled. 

“We won’t let you starve during the hunt, don’t you worry,” Alec grinned.

Jem faked offense. “How can you call a valiant a valiant if he starves while he is hunting, Alec? Besides, this is just for the road.”

“It’s impossible to relieve your hunger, isn’t it?” Jace stifled a laugh, “Come on, guys.” The four mounted their horses. 

“Your man is going,” Charlotte told Kaelie, her brow raised. Kaelie had been lusting after Jace since they were younger, yet she was so blinded she didn’t see that he thought of her no more than a sister. Charlotte went to stand next to Kaelie as they both watched the men prepare to leave. Charlotte looked at her love-blinded sister, then back to the little puffs of dust the horses left as they rode. 

As they left, villagers along the edges of shops and tents bid them goodbye. They all had hope, maybe the son of the leader will be able to bring back some kill. They journeyed out, Jace in the front, Jem in the back, and Simon and Alec on either side.

* * *

**Amanos Mountains, Templars Castle**

The large brick castle sat across the long bridge, the bridge that connected it to the rest of the world. 

On the inside of the castle, tens of soldiers paced in their white uniform, their white cloaks branded with a large red cross. With their swords clipped to their sides, they were ready for any battle, any attack. 

Some paced on the balcony, some paced just outside doors that led to the inside, some paced the bottom and top of the stairs. Some paced on the courtyard, some in the gatehouse, and others on either side of it. Two stood guard at the outside of the doors to the whole palace. 

What none of the guards noticed was the black-cloaked man scaling the outer wall. They didn’t notice him jump over to the inside, on the top of the balcony, not until he uncoiled the whip from around his arm and used it to hang the nearest soldier from it. He easily disarmed another soldier coming at him, and slit his neck. 

He jumped over the side of the rail and landed on the courtyard floor. As all the soldiers crowded around him with their weapons drawn, he pulled down his hood. Immediately each one of them knelt down, bowing their heads to their commander. 

He ripped his cloak off him and threw it to the ground, looking around angrily. 

“Guard duty is your pride! Guard duty is your honor! If you betray your pride and honor by failing your duty, your death will not come from the enemy, but from me!”

* * *

The sound of horses riding hard echoed in the forest. Jace, Simon, Jem, and Alec rode deep in between the trees, trying to look for some deer, something, anything.

* * *

The mountain bridge connecting the castle to the rest of the world was now occupied. Four horses, two soldiers, the king, and his niece, the princess. They steered their horses past the gatehouse and into the courtyard. 

The previously-black-cloaked man awaited their arrival and knelt down like the other guards standing in the yard. The four newcomers stopped their horses, and the king noticed the hanging man. The previously-black-cloaked man stood and walked in front of the king’s horse. “You have honored us, King Leonard.” 

“That honor belongs to us all,” The king replied, as he dismounted his horse. 

The previously-black-cloaked man went around to go assist the princess down. When her feet landed on the floor, she turned in the previously-black-cloaked man’s hold and looked at him closely.

“General Titus,” She nodded. 

“Princess Eleanora,” He mirrored her expression. 

He held his arm out, and she took it. “I hope your journey was well,” He said.

The king interrupted, “Is everything alright, Titus?” 

“We are safer than ever, sir. So I’d assume it’s safe to say yes.”

It seemed Eleanora just now noticed the hanging man. She raised an eyebrow at Titus. Titus led Eleanora and followed the king inside. The main doors were opened for them. 

“Your chambers are ready, sir. Would you like to rest before lunch?” Titus asked.

“Eleanora may rest, we have work to do,” He replied, looking over his shoulder. 

“As you wish.”

The king went on and left Titus and Eleanora to themselves. The princess went down into a low curtsy, “With your permission, I will take my leave,” She said. 

Titus nodded as she left. He followed the king to the throne room, where the soldiers opened the doors for them, bowed, and closed them as soon as they were in. 

“What is the latest update on the prisoners?” The king asked.

“I gave that duty to my brother, Alan.” 

King Leonard walked up the platform and sat on his throne. 

“Alan and the soldiers accompanying him will hand Valentine and his family over to Duke Sebastian. As for the others, I have waited for you,” Titus continued.

Leonard nodded his approval, “Good.”

* * *

The soldiers and their leader sat tall on their horses. The ones walking beside the wheeled cage would tease the prisoners whenever they got bored. Inside the cage sat three people, all covered in dirt and grime, dressed in ripped clothes. 

The brother of King Easter, Crown Prince Valentine, his oldest child, sixteen-year-old Princess Clarissa, and his eleven-year-old son, Prince Jonathan. His white-bearded face was pulled into an exhausted frown. Where could these soldiers be taking them? Who else wanted them? 

Well, that question was obvious; everyone. Valentine and his two children were one of the most powerful people in the world. They were of great importance, and of course, there were people who wanted their power, and they would do anything to get it.

“Where are they taking us, Father?” Prince Jonathan a sked.

“To our palace, son.” 

Jonathan looked from Clarissa to their father as if to see if he were joking. 

“We will be free there, right?” 

Clarissa looked away. “Until eternity, son,” Valentine replied. “Until eternity.” 

Jonathan smiled.

Clarissa made eye contact through the bars with a soldier walking next to her. She turned back to her family, “So our fate was to return to Cavalon like this,” She said bitterly. “To the palace where we were born and raised, to be killed by my uncle.” 

“I won’t let anyone harm you or your brother, my pearl,” Valentine assured. 

The three of them heard the lie in that.

* * *

“This way, Duke Sebastian will be dependent on us more than ever,” Leonard said. Titus nodded as the king continued. “It’s very important for him to win the favor of King Easter.”

“Duke Sebastian’s senior role in the Mombertian palace will relieve us,” Said Titus. 

“Yes, it most certainly will.”

* * *

**Duke Sebastian’s Caravansary**

Inside the brick inn, Duke Sebastian sat in his chambers, on his “throne.” It wasn’t a throne, just a wooden block with a cushion on top and a thin backboard. 

Sebastian sat back lazily, enjoying having servants bustling about following his orders. “We did everything as you commanded, sir.” 

“Alright!” He thrust his arm out in a gesture made to get rid of the annoying man. “Exciseman,” The man bowed before the duke. “Are all the tribes paying their taxes?” He asked harshly. 

“We can’t control them, sir. They’re always on the move.”

“Which is the biggest tribe?”

“Alicante Tribe, sir. They ran away from the Mongol invasion.”

“Who is their leader?”

“Count Stephen, sir.”

“How many tents?”

“Two thousand tents, but they are well respected, sir.”

“Do they pay their taxes on time?”

“They do, sir.”

“Good. Then they shall pay their taxes earlier this year.”

“But, sir—”

“You heard what I said. How will this country, Idris, remain standing? Inform all the tribes in the region immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where the hell are those Templars? We need Valentine and his son killed.”

“And the girl, sir?” The excisemen frowned. 

Sebastian smirked. “I’d like to have some fun with her. I’m going to make her my wife, Princess Clarissa. Yes, she will bear my children, raise them. I’m going to make her mine. All mine.”

* * *

**Finally, I finished chapter one! So, I have the whole story outlined, but I should say, I don’t have an update schedule. Now, since the outline is done, you can be rest assured, you will be able to read the end of this story soon, but it will be a long one. Once again, about the updates, I will try my hardest to post a chapter any time I can, and I will be alternating between this story and my other, The Battle Has Just Begun. If anything in the story is confusing, you can explain in a review or message me. See you next chapter!**

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Hiya, I’m back with chapter two! The story gets a bit more action in this one, so you'll get a better look at the plot. Enjoy!**

* * *

The soldiers guarding the prisoners had been riding in silence for hours, when their leader, Alan, broke it. “Halt!” He put his arm out as a gesture for the men to stop. “We’ll take a break here. Check the surroundings.” 

He dismounted his horse, along with some others, while the rest went along to make sure the area was clear.

* * *

Leonard got off his throne and walked beside Titus to the map-table. “We need to weaken the Momberts before the war,” Leonard said. “You should put more men in the Mombert palace, Titus.”

“You can be sure that we will invade the palace. Sooner or later, we will.”

“There is a group in the Papacy who are reluctant about the war.” 

Titus shook his head and smiled, “I’m not surprised. We need to make a plan that will mobilize all of Europe.”   
  


“We need to do this. The Christian world must unite and act for Drastein. For this, we need to provoke the Corbians and make them attack us.”   
  


Titus mischievously grinned. “I have some very valuable prisoners. We can start with them.” 

The king nodded his approval.

* * *

Jonathan let out a cry as Alan yanked his hair from the other side of the cage. He elbowed him, which caused his release, then whipped around and gave him the stink eye. 

Alan shushed him. “Calm down, son.”

Valentine pulled his son behind him, “Jonathan.” He said, eyeing Alan. “Alan, you can go to hell. Take us to our destination quickly.” He snapped. 

Alan raised an eyebrow. “So you are keen to die?” His gaze trailed over to the prince and princess. “I pity your beautiful daughter and the little prince.”   
  


“We don’t need or want your pity.”

Alan took a step forward. “If you had accepted the alliance with us, you would’ve become the 

Mombert king and everything would have been fine.”   
“You offered slavery for—”

“We offered you peace and new world order. We wanted to live side by side. But,” Alan grinned, showing his yellow teeth, “Corbian blood will always be shed. And we’ll destroy you with our Corbian allies. Yes, believe it or not, some of you were dumb enough to side with us. And we will use them against you.”

Valentine gritted his teeth. “You won’t succeed.”

“We will see. Oh, and, in the meantime, give my regards to all your men I sent to hell.”

“The area is clear, commander.” A soldier interrupted. 

“Good,” Alan said. “Water the horses.” He paused, “Them too.” He walked away, gesturing to the cage. A curly blonde-haired soldier walked up to them with a pouch of water. He turned to the two guards at the front of the cage and motioned for them to leave. They obeyed. The man walked around the cage, looking in. 

Valentine and Jonathan had their eyes closed, no doubt trying to get some sleep, while the princess laid her head against the bars, emerald eyes staring straight ahead of her. The man noticed. He walked behind her and shook the pouch to get her attention.

Clary looked behind her. “I brought you water, take it,” The man said. Clary reached through the bar when the man pulled away. Clary frowned, then turned around. The man shook it again, this time putting it through the bars so it was next to her. “Come on, take it.” 

She made a move to grab the water when he wrapped his hand around her throat and pulled her face against the bars. 

He wasn’t holding hard enough to block off any air, but, when he attached his mouth to hers, she let out a strangled sound, which got her father and brother’s attention. Their eyes snapped open, and upon assessing the situation, sprang into action. 

Valentine grabbed the man’s hair and slammed his face against the bars. He released Clary and she reached into his belt for the key. Valentine pulled the man’s dagger out, and thrust it into his gut, then released him. All the other soldiers were messing around, not paying attention, much to the prisoner’s luck. Clary fiddled with the lock, then opened it. The three jumped out and began to run.

* * *

Jace, Simon, Jem, and Alec rode some more, and more, and more. Until they came across a small deer lurking in the forest. They halted to a stop, “We’re in luck,” Simon said. 

Alec shushed him, but it was too late, it ran off. The four dismounted their horses, then took them by the reins and steered them to some trees. After tying the reins to the bark, they went on foot after it with some new-found motivation.

* * *

Clary, Jonathan, and Valentine ran past the guards, and kept going after one shouted, “The prisoners are escaping!” 

“Quick, run!” Alan shouted. “After them!” All the guards took out their swords and daggers, and Alan took a bow and quiver of arrows. They chased after them at full-speed, not far behind.

* * *

The deer ran as Jace chased after it. He and his three men separated to try and find the deer faster.

* * *

With Clary in the lead, her hand grabbing at Jonathan’s arm, and their father right behind, they ran as fast as they could. The Templars were hot on their trail.

* * *

Jace jumped over logs, taking his bow from over his head, and pulling an arrow from his quiver. He nocked the arrow, and slowed to a walk, just as the deer had done. The animal took off and ran faster when it heard Jace pulling the string back. Jace, frustrated, went after it.

* * *

Clary had let go of Jonathan’s arm, leaving plenty of space between them. They ran down the hill, trees surrounding them everywhere. Jonathan caught up to Clary, leaving their father behind them by a good amount of space. 

They didn’t notice Alan pull back the string to his bow. He aimed, and released, hitting Valentine’s leg. He fell with a grunt. Clary gasped looking behind her. “FATHER!” Jonathan and Clary shouted in unison. They ran for him. The arrow had pierced through his leg, and Alan smiled as they struggled. 

“Go, take your brother and go,” Valentine grunted. 

“No!” Clary screeched.

* * *

Jace stepped behind the tree with caution, carefully as to not step on any branches. He pulled the string back, ready to shoot. The deer just stood there, not knowing that its life was in Jace’s hands. Just when he was about to release, he heard a girl’s shout. “Father!”

He looked to the side, and the deer ran at the sound. “Quick, run away.”

“No, we can’t leave you like this!” He heard.

* * *

The guards advanced, all thirty of them, their weapons ready. Clary and Jonathan were trying to pull the arrow out when Valentine stopped them. “Take your brother and get the hell out of here!” 

“We’re not leaving you like this!” Shouted Clary. She looked up and saw a guard riding on his horse towards them. She sprang up and took a long stick laying on the ground. Just as the man approached, she whacked him, and he and his horse fell to the ground. 

She threw the stick on the grass and whipped her long, curly red hair out of her face. Jonathan had managed to get their father to his feet, and Clary ran to help them move. The knights were only a few feet behind them. They were too late.

* * *

Jace ran towards the voices and stopped to take in the scene in front of him. A bunch of Templars had drawn their weapons to three people. Prisoners, it seemed. There was an old man with a sword against his neck, and a young boy with a dagger against his throat, and a girl. 

Gosh, the girl, she was pretty. A knight who looked like the leader grabbed her by her hair, and shouted, “So, you tried to run away? You will pay for this, girl!” 

He threw her to the ground so she was laying on her back. Two guards stepped on her arms to hold her down while she squirmed. “Father, father,” She cried, still squirming. The leader smirked. The old man began to yell, “Someone, please! Help us!” 

Jace had seen enough. He stepped into view of the party, though no one paid him any attention. He pulled his arrow back, aimed, and shot, killing a soldier. 

He shot another as the knights released the three prisoners and turned to him. Jace threw his bow to the ground and pulled out his sword and dagger. 

“In the name of Ithuriel!” He shouted, and flung himself into the battle. He swung his sword, easily killing each soldier that advanced on him. He heard the shouts of Alec, Simon, and Jem, as they threw themselves in to help. 

The four fought, as Jonathan and Clary tried as much as they could to attend to their father, who got up. Valentine took the sword of a fallen knight and blocked a hit that would’ve taken his daughter’s life. 

However, he couldn’t take much pride at the moment, as he took a blow from Alan just below his ribcage. He fell to the ground, his children running to him. “Father!” Jonathan shouted. Clary didn’t give her father her full attention, though, as she had her eyes on the man who flung the first arrow. The man who saved them. 

She watched the other men, one fought with an ax, one with two swords, and another with only one short sword. Their savior hurled his dagger, landing it in the shoulder of a knight. The battle kept on, the four men easily managing. They were skilled. 

Especially the one who saved them. The man with two swords stuck one into the ground and grabbed onto a soldier. He shouted, “Alec, take this one!” And hurled him towards the man with an ax. He was tall, lean, and built, with raven black hair and blue eyes, like the sky. He thrust his ax into the soldier, then pulled out a small knife from his belt and continued to fight. 

The other man, the one with a short sword, was short just like it. Actually, it seemed like almost everything about him was short. His curly hair, stubble, legs, and arms. 

The man with the two swords was big, like a bear. He had brown hair to his shoulders and this wild demeanor about him. He truly fought like a monster. His hair, Clary could see, was streaked with silver. His brown eyes were wild as he swung his swords.

The last man, the one who shot the arrow, was no doubt attractive. With his firm jaw, close-cropped blond hair, and bright gold eyes. He was built, muscles were clearly coiled around his arms and legs, chest, and back. He got to Alan, the leader. He turned around, and his eyes met with Clary’s. Turning back, he quickly killed the two guards surrounding Alan then advanced on him. 

Alan fought, but he wasn’t good enough. Not ten seconds later, the man pulled his sword from Alan’s gut, leaving him dead. The man and his blue-eyed companion knelt in front of Clary’s father, taking in his injuries. 

Clary elevated his head in her arms, while Jonathan tried to hold him still to stop the bleeding. The man spoke, “Alec, quick, find some oak leaves.” 

Alec nodded and headed off to find them.

* * *

“If we’re successful, all the borders in the region will change,” Leonard said. 

“For the salvation of Drastein, we shouldn’t refrain from spending our cult’s fortune,” Titus replied.

“We’re ready to spend the whole treasury,” Leonard said. He took a sip of wine from his goblet. “A new Drastein campaign for young men will be the easiest way to become rich. To be a part of the war, they’ll join the army.” 

Leonard used his staff to point at different locations on the map table. “The Catalans, the Venetians, the Marseilleans, they’ll all long to join this carnival.” He walked to the other side of the table.

“Well, what about all those spoilt princes of Europe, how will we trust them?” Titus asked.

“It won’t be difficult while the Corbians are busy fighting each other, Titus.”

“And the Momberts, sir? They’re at the peak of their power with King Easter.”   
“The day will come when we are victorious. It’ll come soon. Don’t worry. Drastein will be ours.”

* * *

The man got up from beside her and took the leaves from Alec, then retook his position by Clary. He broke the arrow from where it protruded from Valentine’s leg, who grunted in pain. He used his hand to cover the wound, then pulled the other end of the arrow from behind his leg. He placed the leaves on the front of his knee, and both he and Clary reached to apply pressure. 

Their hands made contact, and for a moment, they both froze and looked at each other. They broke contact, and the man took the cloth Alec brought him. He used it to tie it like a bandage around her father’s injury. 

“We need to be on our way as soon as possible.” The man said to Clary. She avoided his gaze, “You can go, we’ll look after ourselves.”   
  


The man insisted, “It’ll get dark soon, and the jackals would’ve already smelled the blood. Jem, Simon, bring the horses.” Those two men, Jem and Simon, went to stand near Alec, and Jem spoke with a grin. “It’s easy to fight off those Templars, what about this?” He nodded behind him. 

“Jace is lost now.” Simon chuckled.

“The Gods always help who is lost,” Jem said.

“He’s lost real bad, though,” Alec added. “Come on,” He patted the two on their backs, and they went to prepare the horses. 

The man brought her attention to him once more, “What are you doing all alone?”

“I said we won’t go,” Clary replied. “We owe you a life, and we’ll pay our debt one day. Tell us your name.”   
  


“Jace, from the Alicante tribe,” He said standing up. “And as you wish. May the Gods be with you. I wish you good luck.” He walked towards his men. 

Jonathan nudged his sister, “We should go with them.”

After a moment, Clary spoke. “Is your tribe far?” 

Jace hid his smile.

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three has decided to make an appearance! As you can tell, we’ll be delving more into the plot and exploring where Jace and Clary stand in each other’s lives. Also, how Clary, Jonathan, and Valentine will affect Alicante’s wellbeing. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Alicante**

The sun shined bright in the sky as the drums sounded, announcing the arrival of the incoming party. The villagers were all awake early, roaming about, some shopping, some training, some taking a walk. 

Some stood along the edge of the main trail, waiting to see who was coming into the village. Some watched as 

Luke banged a piece of metal into a sword. Others were assisting Jack Wyatt, the tribe healer, make an antidote for the sick. 

Once the newcomers were about halfway in through, they dismounted their horses and led them forward by the reigns. Two men leading their group were guiding horses strapped with treasures. “Even our money for bad days is spent, Elijah,” The first man said. “We can set up shop here, and if we see that they aren’t interested, we’ll go on to the next tribe.” 

They made their way to the front of the village, directly in front of the stairs that lead up to the leader’s tent. Just as they looked up, the flap of the tent was moved to the side and the leader’s brother, Aldertree, emerged. Smiling, he walked down the steps, holding his arms out. “Welcome, my dear friend, Benjamin,” Aldertree exclaimed. “You bring joy to Alicante !” The two shook hands and hugged. 

“Aldertree, my man! You look healthy, thank god,” Benjamin laughed. 

“It’s what these lands do to you,” Aldertree grinned. Benjamin walked to his horse and took out a bundle of cloth, then threw it over his shoulder. 

“Where is your caravan?” Aldertree asked.

“Near the black rock. I came here to ask Count Stephen for permission to set up shop.”   
“How is the business going for you?”   
  


“It’s well, we thank god for what he gives us. Besides, one of the reasons I’m here is to supply Alicante with whatever you may need before you migrate.”

Aldertree nodded. “Bless you, Benjamin. I hope we meet your expectations.”   
  


“Thank you. Now, if Count Stephen is available then I would like to meet with him.”

Aldertree turned to one of the guards standing outside the tent. “Caleb! Alert Count Gabriel, tell him that Benjamin the trader is here.” 

Caleb nodded and went inside. One of Benjamin’s men handed him a box and he made his way towards the steps. 

Elijah, Aldertree's trading buddy, eyed Aldertree as he walked to look at the goods they had brought. Elijah swiped his hand over his face, covering it up in a casual way, as he watched Aldertree look at a sheathed knife. Aldertree turned to the man who gave Benjamin the box, “How much is this knife?” 

The man just looked down and bowed. 

“He is mute, sir. Allow me to assist you,” Elijah spoke up. 

Aldertree turned to him and waved the knife, his question unspoken, but known. 

“Eighty coins.”

Aldertree narrowed his eyes. “You look familiar to me.”

Elijah’s eyes widened the slightest bit, “This is my first time in your tribe, sir. You probably took me to be someone else.” He stroked the horse’s mane as they neighed. 

Aldertree looked at the knife, then nodded at Elijah. “Probably, probably.”

* * *

Caleb held the tent flap to the side to allow Benjamin to meet with the count. Count Stephen sat on his seat, the traditional cushioned ottoman. The flag of Alicante was hung proudly behind him. Caleb took the box from Benjamin and approached the count, who screamed authority. Placing the box in front of his leader, he bowed his head in respect. Caleb sat near the box, on the ground. 

“Peace be upon you, Count Stephen,” Benjamin said.

“And upon you may it be as well, trader. Welcome to Alicante .”

“Count Stephen, I’m so very pleased to see you again. Please accept my presents, I brought them from Esterpolis for you.”

Caleb opened the box and took out a woolen hat and a writing feather, holding them out to the count. Count Stephen, however, put his hand out in motion for Caleb to withdraw the presents. “You didn’t have to bother,” He said to Benjamin. Just then, Aldertree walked in and bowed his head to his brother. 

“Aldertree, give these to those in need.”

“As you wish, sir.” Aldertree looked to Caleb and nodded his head to the tent flap, silently telling him to obey the Count’s wishes. He did. 

“Tell us now, what did those eyes of yours see in all those other parts of the world?” The count asked Benjamin.

“Honestly, I wish I was deaf so that I didn’t have to hear what I heard. I wish I was blind so that I didn’t have to see what I saw, sir,” He frowned.   
“What happened?”

“King Easter recovered Cavalon, but he worries that the fugitive royals may give him trouble. The Latins ransacked Esterpolis, and all Johams left their city. There’s no order, no peace. And with the famine now everybody is desperate.”

Aldertree spoke up. “We heard that the leftovers from the Crusaders are getting restless. It’s obvious that they are up to something once again.”

“Well, how are the commoners?” Count Stephen asked. 

“They’ll be on the road again to try and find something to eat,” Benjamin replied. “The rumor is that the Pope is calling for a new crusade to the European Princess.” 

Aldertree stroked his beard in thought. Count Stephen shook his head, “And look at us Corbains fighting each other. Sowing disputes between each other, fueling the disorder as much as possible.”

“From Jenard to Placo, all around, everywhere is on fire. This fire, it’ll catch us in its flames too, sir.” Aldertree added.

“Please don’t say fire, it upsets me, Lord Aldertree,” Benjamin grimaced. He turned to Count Stephen. “I came to seek permission to sell goods in your tribe.”   
  


“You have my permission,” Stephen dismissed. 

“Thank you, so very much!” He got up, bowing his head, and walking out. 

Aldertree looked at his brother sitting on his seat. “Duke Sebastian has come to the region to control Idris’ tribes.”

“Well, we now know that we have difficult days ahead of us.”   
Aldertree nodded, “Yes, sir, we do.” He smirked a small, not-very-noticeable smirk, “We most certainly do.”

* * *

“And this girl, yes, she is from Venetia, Duke Sebastian. Rosalina is her name. She is of noble blood.” The trader pulled a slave girl from the group of females behind him, presenting her to the duke. The duke who was sitting lazily in his so-called throne eating grapes. “Commander, she is a rare one, white skin, and green eyes. Very rare. Oh, and, she is very cheap, yes. As you know I am in urgent need of money. This will be a very good opportunity for both you and me.” The trader pushed the girl back in line. He hurried to the other side of the room, where more stood obediently. He grabbed the first of the three, 

“What do you say to this one, commander? They kidnapped her from the Greek Islands. She screams beauty and freshness.”

The duke, ignoring what the trader said, nodded his head to the girl standing in the back. “What about that blond one?” 

The trader immediately brought her in front of Sebastian. “I must say, you have marvelous taste, my duke. I brought this one from the discards of the recent war. She is Serbian, she knows how to treat a man well. And I must say, she is marvelous in be—”

“Enough.” Sebastian looked to the small girl, her petite frame shaking. “Come here,” He ordered.

She did. 

She kept her head bowed, and when the duke rose, she closed her eyes momentarily. Sebastian stood in front of her. He raked a hand through her curly hair, tilting her head up, forcing her gaze to meet his. She kept her eyes down as he trailed a finger along her chest. “You don’t need to be afraid of me,” He smiled wickedly. “I am your master now.”

“You chose the most expensive one, commander. But she is worth it,” The trader said. 

The great doors opened, and a guard walked in. He dipped his head, “Sir—”

“What happened?”

“The Templars, they, the Templars were ambushed, sir.”

It took a moment for Sebastian to process those words. “Weren’t you there to aid them?” He growled. 

“We were too late, sir.”

“So you were late,” The duke advanced slowly till he was right in front of the guard. He punched him in the gut, hard. The guard fell to his knees, gasping for air.”

* * *

Lady Celine was in the rug shop with all the other women of the tribe, all going about their daily routine, preparing wool, dying it, weaving rugs out of it, selling the rugs to other tribes. Lady Celine stood with an older woman, guiding her when the drums beat. Everyone looked up, all the women at the rug shop, the men walking around, the kids playing tag, everybody. Lady Celine and Lady Maia stepped out, watching with curiosity and confusion as Jace, Alec, Jem, and Simon rode in. However, they weren’t alone. They had brought people with them. Three people. A girl, about Maia’s age, a young boy, and an old man, who appeared to be injured. 

The man was slumped on Jace’s horse behind him, no doubt unconscious. The boy rode behind Alec looking exhausted, and the girl, she was, different. She rode her horse with a stiff posture, and her expression alone reeked of greatness and wisdom. And, authority. 

She held her head high, not in an arrogant way, but a confident one, despite her situation. She was also stunningly gorgeous, Maia couldn’t help but notice. She had waist-long red hair, beautifully curled, and, as her horse neared the rug shop, Maia gasped. Her eyes were mesmerizing; a deep emerald green, yet so bright. 

Lord Jace then began to shout. “Jack Wyatt! Where the hell is Jack? Go get him, now! We have injured! JACK WYATT!” 

The villagers began assisting Jace in getting the old man off the horse. Lady Maia watched as the girl got down from her horse—expertly— and ran to help with the man. Jack Wyatt himself came, and led them all into the infirmary. 

Lady Maia went near them, looking for her fiance. “Alec? Alec! Oh, Alec, you’re back, you’re safe!” She hugged him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “What happened?” She asked, her head laid on his chest. He pulled back, his blue eyes mesmerizing her, like every time. “It’s nothing to worry about.” He was about to go into the infirmary when she stopped him. “You’re alright, though?”

His expression softened, “We all are fine, thank God.” He kissed her quickly, then hurried inside. Jace was going to follow when Lord Henry stopped him. “What happened, brother?”

“They were attacked, Henry. I’ll tell you everything later. I promise. For now, let me…” He nodded his head to the infirmary tent flap. Henry nodded uncertainly, “Yeah, okay. Yeah. Go ahead.” Henry turned to his personal guard, Sully, and said, “Keep an eye on them, will you?”

“As you wish, sir.” He nodded. Henry found his wife.    
“Who are they, Henry?” She asked.

“I don’t know, Jace will tell us later. We’ll find out soon enough.” Henry left, and Kaelie took his place. “Sister, what is happening? Who are these people?”

“Relax, they’ll probably be gone by tomorrow. But we’ll find out who they are in a bit.”

* * *

“The sword hit him right below the ribs. Fortunately, the oak leaves helped stop the bleeding,” Jack Wyatt said. He was in the infirmary along with everyone else, Jace, the new girl, the little boy, and the nurse. They all surrounded the old, injured, man on the bed. He noticed the girl watching his every move with her sharp, emerald eyes. The boy looked lost in his own thoughts. And Jace had his eyes on the girl. Jack smirked to himself. He knew how this was going to end. 

Jack looked up at the nurse, “Molly, bring some hot water, please.”

“Alright, sir.” She nodded and left. 

“His leg wound is bad as well, but we should worry about this one first,” Jack said. 

After watching Jack work for some time, Jace spoke to the girl. “Jack can take it from here. We should go wait outside to let him work in peace.”

The boy replied, “We can’t leave Father here, sister.”

“Don’t worry, child. Your father is in good hands.”

Jace followed the two outside, and held the tent flap open for the nurse, who was rushing back with a pot of steamy water.

“Thank you very much. For everything. We brought a lot of trouble to you,” The girl said. Jace turned to her and got his first good look. He had to stifle a gasp and struggled to keep his face his usual stony expression. Her eyes were like stones—bright, emerald stones. She had high cheekbones and long curled hair. Her skin seemed pale, and she was pretty skinny but fit. He took a minute to process what she had said, then frowned.

“No, not at all. Don’t say that. You have more breaths to take, and more bites to eat. You have lives to live.” Jace paused, “Where were the Templars taking you?”

He noticed the girl stiffen, and the boy froze. The girl hesitated, “We don’t know. They, um, they didn’t say. I believe they were, uh, going to sell us. Um, in the trade market. My father is, eh, a trader. We were captured near Idris’s border.”

Jace saw the boy look down and chew on his lip. He narrowed his eyes at the girl, who met his gaze head-on before looked down. 

“Your father must be a very good trader, if there were that many Templars taking you.” He knew they were lying, but didn’t press.

“Yes, um, we were rich. But, we have nothing left now,” She looked around. 

“You’re in the Alicante tribe. I’m the son of the tribe leader, Count Stephen. My name is Lord Jace.”

She nodded. “We owe you three lives, Lord Jace.”

“What are your names?”

She paused in thought. “My father is Valentine, my brother is Jonathan. I’m Pri-um, I’m Clarissa. Clary,” She stammered, a light blush coating her cheeks.

* * *

Sebastian was mad. 

Very mad. 

Extremely mad. 

Irate.

He turned around and grabbed the blond he had picked by her hair. “Do you wish to be freed?” He spoke through clenched teeth. The girl nodded vigorously. 

“Yeah? Okay, then kill this man.” He pointed to the guard who delivered the news. 

The girl’s eyes widened. “I, no, no! I can’t!”

“You will be freed!”

“Commander, you are furious. Calm down firs—” The trader began.

“Shut. Up.”

The guard spoke from his place on the ground. “Sir, please. Spare me for my children.”

“You are good for nothing,” The duke sneered. He thrust the knife at the girl, “Do it!”

She shakily took it, then stumbled forward. 

She stabbed him in the heart, not looking him in the eye as she sobbed. She pulled the bloody knife out with a grunt. The duke smiled, then stood behind her. He held her hand, the one holding knife, and said, “I’m freeing you.” Then he thrust the knife into her abdomen. He let her fall to the ground gasping. “A girl who kills someone to be free, can kill her master one day, too.” 

Then he screamed. “DAMN YOU, TEMPLARS!”

* * *

**Chapter three is done!!! Finally! Now, what do you think Clary is hiding? When is she going to tell Jace who she is? Is Sebastian going to find them? Is Count Stephen going to turn them in? Leave a review if you liked the chapter ;)**

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Enjoy ;)**

* * *

**Alicante Tribe**

Countess Celine looked up from the steaming pot to her husband, “Supper is ready, Stephen.” 

Jace walked in to Charlotte and Kaelie placing plates on the table, his parents took their seats, and Maxwell, his younger brother, fiddling with an arrow. 

“Max, come on over to the table, son,” Celine said.

“I’ll come as soon as I’m done with this, Mother,” He responded, eyes still locked on his work. 

Stephen smiled, “Some advice, try to always be like that. Finish the task at hand first.”

Jace chuckled, ruffling his younger brother’s hair.

Celine looked to Charlotte, still setting plates down. “Bring the molasses, dear. Oh, and tell me, dearest—”

“Yes, Mother?”

“Where is Henry?”

“Uh, he went to check in with the shepherds, he should be here in a few minutes,” Charlotte wiped her hands on a handkerchief. 

Celine nodded, “Kaelie, dear, set another plate for Raphael .” At Jace’s startled look, she continued, “If he ever returns one day, he should know his place is ready and waiting at the table. Now,  _ where  _ is Henry?” 

Charlotte tsked, “He’ll be here any moment now, Mother. Ah, see.” Henry walked in, nodding his respect to his parents as Max put all his arrows in a quiver and made his way to the table next to Jace as they began to eat.

Kaelie sat across from Jace, watching him eat from the bread. Stephen looked to his third-born son, “So, Jace. You came back with a rather large hunt today.”

Jace swallowed, “Something like that, Father.”

“What kind of luck is this, brother? You’re like a tree attracted to lightning. You draw all types of trouble to yourself,” Henry raised a brow. 

Jace gave a half-hearted shrug, stroking his short beard. “They were under attack. I did what I had to.”

“Who are they? Where do they come from?” Stephen asked, swallowing.

“They were captured by Templars. The man is a trader.”

“Those Templars must be from Antioch. Knights like them don’t freely transfer captives in the Mombert territory,” said Henry.

Charlotte looked up from her food as Stephen responded, “So what?”

“What I mean is that the Momberts must know about these prisoners,” Henry clarified. 

Jace shook his head, “There were no Mombert soldiers with them. All Templars."

Henry pursed his lips, “Sooner or later this trouble you brought upon us will unfold, and maybe then you’ll see the hell you've thrown us in.”

“What should I have done?” Jace raised his voice, food forgotten. “Should I have left them for death? Just turn my back on them and leave?”

“Shut up, both of you,” Stephen’s tone was stern. “Host them in a way worthy of our tribe. We’ll see what the future holds as it comes.”

Jace looked at his full plate with no intention of eating, his family avoiding his gaze.

* * *

Jack Wyatt rinsed the blood off his red-stained hands, the moonlight shining through the window of the infirmary tent. Valentine lay on the cot nearby, covered in the sheep-skin blanket. Jonathan laid his head over his father’s body, sleeping, and Clary draped a wet cloth on his forehead, attempting to bring down his fever. “It’s over now, Father. We’re safe, you’ll heal soon,” She murmured softly. Ever since her mother passed away all those years ago, Clary became the maternal figure in Jon’s life, so she knew how to take care of someone. 

Clary wrung the towel into the small basin as she heard a voice behind her, “Do I have permission to enter?” Lord Jace said.

Jack turned around, “Of course, my lord, please.”

Clary turned and met Jace’s golden stare, then gave the attention back to her sleeping father. “How is our patient doing?” Jace asked.

Jack sighed, “I did what I could, his fate is in Gods’ hands now. With your permission,” Jack said, and left when Jace nodded.

Clary began to pick up the cloth and basin when she felt the breeze against her neck. The tent flap was opened, and she heard Jace say, “Come on in, Maia.”

Clarissa glanced behind her, standing up. A girl with light brown skin, amber eyes, and brown curly hair held a smile on her face. “This is Maia, Alec’s sweetheart. Maia, this is Clarissa,” Jace introduced. 

Maia smiled softly at Clarissa, and ran her hands down to smooth out her emerald-green gown, “I came to see if you needed anything?”

Clarissa gave her a weary smile, “Thank you. We’ve burdened you too much.”

Disbelief crossed Maia’s face, “Don’t say that!” Jon sat up, rubbing his eyes as she continued, “Jem and Simon are preparing their tent for you. You can stay there the night.”

Clary looked at her brother and father, then back to Jace and Maia. “I should stay with my father tonight.”

Jace turned to her, “You need rest. You look very tired. Your father will need you more when he wakes up tomorrow,” When she hesitated, Jace smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay with him.”

Clary gave in, “Thank you.”

Jace nodded as Maia led Clary and Jon out of the infirmary.

* * *

Celine sighed as she wiped the wet cloth across her husband’s back. “How could you let this carbuncle grow so much? It’s huge!”

Stephen hissed as she rubbed on some ointment, “We carry so many problems on our shoulders, why should I be afraid of something this small?”

“I’m just saying, if you had crushed its head when it was much smaller, you wouldn’t have to deal with it right now. It would have been long gone,” Celine scolded.

“Listen, Celine, love, the enemy that was once in the mountain is now in our tribe. They only wait for my slightest mistake to attack. I have to hide this so they don’t know of my weakness. You know what they say; it’s better to bite your lip and sit with the pain rather than give them something to talk about.”

“I see where you’re coming from, I do. But you should’ve at least told Jack!” She exclaimed.

Stephen looked over his shoulder at his wife, “I did, woman, I did. He’s preparing another ointment to help me.”

Stephen sat back and sighed, long and hard. As Celine wrung out the cloth, she tilted her head to the side, “Are you thinking about our guests?”

Stephen grimaced, “I take shame in saying I have no idea what kind of fire this match has lit.”

“We’ll figure it out,” She said, leaning into the pillows against the headboard. “We always do.”

* * *

Clary used the wooden comb to brush through her long, curly hair as her brother slept. She placed the comb down as she eyed the red, feathered tassel resting on her nightstand. 

She was dressed in the traditional Alicanteian nightgown; a white sleeveless cotton shift that reached the floor, and was laced up at the top with string. She lay down on the sheets, picking up the tassel, braiding through some of the rope. 

She went through the events of that day in her head, they were put into the wheeled-cage, taken all through Idris, and as they neared the border of Alicante, they almost escaped. They were caught, her father was injured, and then they were rescued by...a very handsome man. 

And his three friends. They were then taken to his tribe, Alicante, and found out that he was the tribe leader’s son, Lord Jace, a very respected man. 

After they stabilized her father in the infirmary tent, Clary and Jon were led to another tent—one much like the other hundred all around Alicante—and given sleep clothes. And here they were now. 

With her last thoughts of Jace and golden eyes, Clary drifted off into the first comfortable sleep she’d had in months.

* * *

Jace, lost in his head, snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Valentine cough in his sleep. Jace immediately poured water from the jug into the flat bowl, lifting it to the man’s mouth. He opened his eyes for a moment, “Thank you,” He breathed, and his head lolled back.

Jace sat back, fidgeting as he watched the moonlight flood through the opening in the flap. He became instantly alert when he heard something clank together just outside, and he stood, unsheathing his sword and walking out, looking around. 

Seeing nobody, he sheathed his sword and walked back in, yet still listening. 

As soon as he entered the infirmary, Elijah sighed in relief. Lord Jace hadn’t spotted him.

* * *

The next morning, Maia and Isabelle, Alec’s sister, came by to get Clary in some Alicantian clothes. “Are you dressed? Can we turn around?” Maia asked.

“Yes, I’m done.”

Maia and Isabelle turned and looked at Clary, who shifted nervously. Clary was dressed in a white gown that reached the floor, and the thin straps had pieces of pale blue chiffon cascading to the ground, her pale arms bare. The material clung to her body, showing off her well-curved hips, and the neckline plunged down in a deep V, emphasizing her enormous breasts. Even for a sixteen-year-old girl, Clary had the figure of a woman, though she hated showing that off.

A blue belt wrapped around her waist and Isabelle had given her an Alicanteian knife to keep tucked in there. She wore black boots, but they didn’t show much considering the gown was long. “How does it fit?” Maia asked.

“It’s perfect,” Clarissa smiled.

“God, Clarissa, you look like a queen from a palace,” Isabelle said, inspecting her.

Clary internally winced,  _ if only you knew. _

“Here, let’s get the headpiece on.” Maia walked over to the table, “Now, I picked this one since you’re unmarr—wait! Are you married?”

Clarissa blinked, “No.”

“Ah, alright, then. You can wear this,” She held up a very intricately designed hair clip, white and blue flowers in different sizes and shades. 

“Why would you ask if I was married? I mean, what man would possi—”

“Hey, none of that! Are you kidding? Men would flip the world upside down for you!” As she began putting the clip on, she chuckled, “Alp Alec got this for me.”

Clary frowned, “Then why am I wearing it?”

“Because it suits you much better. Besides, soon I won’t be able to wear it,” Maia shrugged.

“When is your wedding?”

Maia’s shoulders slumped, “As soon as we migrate from this moorland, hopefully.”

Clary tilted her head to the side, “Isn’t it hard to be the wife of an Alp?”

“Honestly, if his heart is beating, who cares how hard it is?” Maia grinned. “The only thing I would ever ask of him to be home safe and sound, as long as there’s no death, you know?”

Clarissa nodded. “Should I braid my hair? Instead of leaving it down?”

“Yes, I’ll help with that,” Isabelle said, stepping behind her to reach her hair.

“You have very odd traditions here in Alicante. It’s so confusing,” Clary said.

Maia and Isabelle laughed as Izzy twisted the sections of hair, “I’ll explain as best as I can. So, unmarried women and girls can wear these sleeveless dresses, showing their arms, but not their legs. Never legs. Your hair, you do with it as you wish, but best put in at least a clip like yours. When a female gets married, her dresses must cover her arms and chest around men, and her headpiece has to have a veil to cover the back of her hair. You know how the Momberts wear white on their weddings, and they have that long veil?”

Clary nodded.

“Well, here, the veil reaches the back of the knees, can be any color, is made of chiffon or cotton based on season, and the top is like a hat, but all jewels and fabric.”

“Wow.”

Maia laughed, “Yeah, oh, and, if a woman marries into our ‘royal family’, then instead of the hat type of piece, she would wear a small crown, but keeping the veil.”

“Is the whole royal family married?” Clary asked.

Izzy snorted in a very unladylike way, “No, Lord Jace and Lord Maxwell are left. Lord Raphael, God knows what happened to him. Most likely dead.”

“Hmm. Why do all the men have grown beards?”

Maia laughed, “Culture.”

A comfortable silence fell. 

As she wrapped the long braid into a bun, Izzy asked, “When was the last time you looked at yourself in a mirror?”

“A while,” Clary said sheepishly.

Maia righted and strode over to the small table, taking a small dagger, unsheathing it, and letting Clary look at her reflection. “See, very pretty,” Maia grinned.

* * *

The man pulled an ax out of the Templer’s body, back at the forest where they were attacked, and the prisoner cage was empty. Duke Sebastian walked around with his men, and when his second in command flipped one of the fallen over, he raised a brow, “Isn’t that the brother of the infidel named Titus?”

“Yes, Commander. His name is Alan.”

“Send these bodies to the Templars. We’re going to be dealing with Titus’s wrath, no doubt.”    
The man nodded as Sebastian stalked off as the one who found an ax came up to him. “Sir, I found this embedded in one of the bodies.”

“Which tribe does this seal belong to?” Sebastian asked, inspecting the bloody mark.

“Alicante Tribe, sir.”

“If Count Stephen is behind this then our work will be very difficult,” The man said, walking around.

“Do you really think that man has the courage to resist the Momberts?” Sebastian yelled.

“No, sir.” He said, cowering.

* * *

Jace walked out of the infirmary, squinting at the morning sun’s light. Lady Charlotte and Kaelie walked over, Charlotte’s hair covered by her veil, and kohl lining her eyes. Kaelie was still young, unmarried, so she simply wore a pink cotton dress and a gold hair clip.

“Good morning, Lord Jace,” She smiled.

He nodded, casting his eyes downward slightly out of respect for the opposite gender. “Good morning.”

Kaelie held her hands out, giving Jace a tray, “I brought you some food,” She said.

Jace smiled, taking it from her. “Thank you, Sister Kaelie. You shouldn’t have bothered.”

Kaelie’s smile dimmed as the title, and looked to Charlotte. 

“How is our patient?” Charlotte asked.

“Better, he should be up in a few days, hopefully,” Jace responded.

She smiled a fake smile, “Hopefully. May God heal him and let him not bring any trouble to our tribe.”

Jace’s nostrils flared, and as he drew a breath to speak, he stopped short. Clarissa, Lady Isabelle, and Lady Maia walked by, “We’ll be back in a bit. We’re going to stop by the weaving area,” Maia said.

Clarissa nodded, “Alright, thank you, Maia. Isabelle”

As they bid each other goodbye, Jace watched Clarissa, mesmerized by her beauty. Kaelie’s eyes traveled between the two as Clary turned around, nodding to Kaelie and Charlotte, then facing Jace. “Is my father doing better, Lord Jace?”

Momentarily at a loss of words, he blinked. “Yes, much better. You can see him once you go in. Thankfully, his fever dropped. We can get him to your tent as soon as tonight.”

Clary nodded, then walked through, lifting the flap and entering the infirmary.

Jace, looking starry-eyed, glanced at Charlotte and Kaelie, then followed her in. 

Kaelie sighed, and Charlotte looked lethal. “Did you see the girl, Kaelie? She’s already controlling Jace. It seems you can only see him in your dreams now,” Charlotte walked off, huffing. 

Kaelie crossed her arms, “Not if I do something about it.”

Her words fell on deaf ears.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Enjoy =)**

* * *

Jace smiled slightly as he watched Clary stroke her father’s whitening hair inside the infirmary. She had, once again, taken his breath away. He had known her less than one day, and he was feeling happier than ever after years just in her presence. He felt light—peaceful. The dress hugged her figure well, and Jace knew for a fact he wouldn’t be the only man in Alicante gawking at her, wishing she was his. As she pushed her father’s hair out of his face, Jace asked, “Did you sleep well?”

Still crouched on the ground near her father’s cot, she smiled up at him, and his heart soared. “It has been years since I’ve slept this peacefully, thank you.”

Jace then frowned, something nagging at his mind. “Yesterday, in the forest you said Templars.”

He watched as she stiffened, yet nodded, “Yes.” Her voice sounded cautious.

Huh.

“Who exactly are they?” He asked.

She glanced up at him, standing, her emerald eyes. The silk fabric cascading from her shoulders trailed on the ground, and when she twisted to face him, they swirled around her beautifully. “They are a cult fighting for Drastein,” She didn’t even flinch as she caned her neck to meet his gaze. She was shorter than him by about half a foot, towering at around five and a half feet. As her words settled in, Jace’s jaw fell slack. “They’re very strong, cruel, ruthless,” She continued, the smoothness of her voice lulling him. “Their only aim is to take their revenge on Drastein,” She pursed her lips. 

Jace narrowed his eyes, “If they are so strong and powerful, what business did they have with you? What do they want from you?”

Jace hadn’t noticed she began to relax again until she stiffened once more, looking away from him. He watched as her throat worked a swallow, and still glancing at the floor, she asked, “Are we on—is this Mombert territory?”

Jace nodded, “Yes. It is.” He didn’t miss the way her eyes widened slightly. “Is there an issue between you and the Momberts, Clary?”

She looked up at him, her face suddenly an unreadable mask. “No, of course not. What business would we have with the great Momberts?”

“Right. You’re right,” He nodded, yet still unconvinced. There was more to this than he thought. If the Momberts were involved...and the Templars too! What kind of people were Clary and her family if they had connections with the Momberts? Unless they were their enemies. Jace shuddered at the thought; an enemy to the Momberts meant an enemy to every tribe in Idris—including Alicante.

* * *

Lucian Greymark sighed as his daughter, Maia, stumbled over the jug of water as she handed him a towel. “What’s wrong with you today, my girl?” He asked, wiping the water from his face.

She huffed, “Nothing, father. I didn’t see it, is all.”

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

She swallowed, her throat working. Maia frowned, pushing her curls away from her face. “When you want something really badly, you don’t get it. That’s what I’ve learned,” She complained.

Luke raised an eyebrow, “What are you talking about, my girl?”

Maia crossed her arms. “Alec and I were going to get married after the migration. We yearned for it so badly! Now, the winter is knocking on our door and we still don’t know where we will go.”

“I see,” Luke nodded, then huffed a laugh. “You’re just as impatient as your late mother. Take a look around you, sweet. Do you think we can survive winter on a mountain this high?” When Maia shook her head, he continued. “Why do you think we have headquarters? Why do you think all the neighboring lords and barons come to Count Stephen’s tent? We will sit. We will talk. And we will solve this,” He stated firmly. 

“Now, come on, we mustn’t be late,” He said, ending the conversation.

* * *

Robin and Jeremy, two close acquaintances of Aldertree, were walking with him through the dirt roads of Alicante. They stood on either side of Aldertree, their robes and turbans moving to flow with the light autumn breeze. “They’re gathering for headquarters soon, Aldertree. And nobody knows what to do,” Robin huffed. 

Aldertree stroked his whitening beard, “We will get past this, with the help of the Gods.”

“Aldertree,” Jeremy began, “The mountains are silent, the rivers have stopped cascading and we have absolutely no rain! We’re stranded here in this moorland. If we don’t migrate quickly then our herds will perish, our crops will stop growing, and we will start dying.”

Aldertree looked at the two men, “What do you suggest?”

Robin crossed his arms, “A good, trained horse neighs to his owner, Aldertree. Our warning to you is this; weigh the options yourself. Count Stephen, your brother, he is very weak. He can’t even ride a horse now.”

“In other words,” Jeremy raised his brows, “He who grabs the power, holds the power.”

Aldertree nodded slowly, considering.

* * *

Countess Celine stood outside the infirmary, looking through the medicinal herbs, smelling them, trying to find the right one, when Jace and Clarissa came out of the tent. She glanced up in surprise, placing the bowl of lavender down. Once Celine took a better look at the two, she did a double-take. There were three things that shocked her, one, Jace was standing far too close to the girl. A lot closer than what was appropriate. 

Two, the girl, Clarissa, she looked  _ gorgeous. _ Maia had cleaned her up well. Her crimson-colored hair was in a loose braid, resting over her shoulder, a blue and white clip holding back some extra strands. The dress also fit her well, though she seemed uncomfortable in it, adjusting the neckline, and pulling the pieces of fabric that flowed to the ground over her bare arms.

Three was Jace. Celine couldn’t remember the last time he looked so...happy. Bright. He had a damn smile on his face, which was rare, as his expression was usually carved from stone. He glanced at her, then blinked. “Mother,” He acknowledged, nodding his head in respect.

“I came to Jack to get some healing herbs,” Celine stated, straightening out her gown and fixing her veil.

Jace cocked his head to the side, “He is out right now. Tell me what it is you need, I can get them for you, Mother.”

Celine shook her head, “No, no. It’s alright. I’ll come and pick them up later.”

Clary looked from her to Jace, who smiled at their guest before turning to completely face his mother. “This is Clarissa, or as she prefers, Clary, the merchant Valentine’s daughter. Clary, my mother, Countess Celine.”

Clary nodded her head in respect, giving a shy smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, dear. How old are you?” Celine asked. She had to be very young. 

“I am sixteen years of age, my lady.” 

Celine saw Jace blink in surprise. He was eleven years older than the girl, and so, so big compared to her small frame. Celine was a bit shocked Clary wasn’t scared of him. In a way, Clary reminded Celine of Charlotte, brave. 

“Welcome to our tribe, Clary. How is your father doing?” Celine fixed a warm, motherly smile on her face, which instantly relaxed Clary.

“He is well, thank you.”

Celine nodded, “That’s good. May God help him fully recover. Our home is always open to you. If you have a problem, please, do not hesitate to come and tell me, alright?”

Clary nodded, smiling. “Thank you. May God bless you, Countess Celine.”

Celine grinned, eyes flickering to Jace, who Celine swore had pride and relief written on his face. Celine stifled a laugh as she walked away, Kaelie was not going to be happy.

* * *

Hours later, the council of men sat in the main room of Count Stephen’s tent around a triclinium, food ready to be eaten. Count Stephen sat on his seat at the head of the room, looking around to see who made it. Aldertree, his brother, sat on his right. Henry, his elder son on his left. Jeremy, Robin, acquaintances of Aldertree were there. Stephen’s closest friend, Lucian Greymark sat on Stephen’s left side. Tens of others filled the room, yet Jace was missing, Stephen noted, as he began. “In the name of God, please, eat.”

The men took their wooden spoons out of their robes, splitting loaves of bread as they started to eat. Stephen addressed the council, “My lords, my warriors, leaders of my clan, welcome.”

Thank you’s resounded around the room as he continued. “We can only thank God that before we set on the path of selling our goods, a merchant had come to our tribe. I say we sell our goods to this trader at a prime value and we won’t have to worry about travel expenses,” Stephen proposed.

“That would be perfect if our only problem was money!” Robin exclaimed.

“We have no pasture left to graze our stock,” Jeremy pointed out. “They can’t drink water, they won’t give milk. They’re all starving to death, my lord.”

“I also see this, worry not. We’ve sent out messages to nearby lords in the region. We asked for land, but the drought is everywhere. Moreover, the tribes in Idris are all running from the Mongol invasion. What do you all suggest?” Stephen asked.

“We’ve been living here for months, we have so many problems arising and we can’t find a solution. When did we Alicantians become so desperate?” Robin exclaimed. 

“Isn’t there anywhere at all for us to go?” Someone asked.

“If we cannot find a solution, how will we sustain our tribe?” Jeremy raised his voice. 

“When did you forget the Gods’ compassion?” Luke growled. “We grew up molded by patience. Whatever they give us, we should be grateful for.”

“We learned what patience is by traveling for weeks without a proper home, Luke,” Robin exclaimed. “What we need is somewhere our offspring can stay for generations so that they don’t wander about without a home either. Don’t lecture us on patience.”

When Stephen noticed Aldertree’s smirk, he interrupted. “When did I ever leave you without food? Or clothes? Or water? When did I ever leave you in a state that makes you worry so much?” He demanded. 

Robin’s eyes widened, and he lowered his head, bringing a fist to his heart in respect and apology. “Never, my lord. I did not mean it like that,” Robin said.

“You better hadn’t,” Luke muttered.

“My lord,” Stephen’s brother, Aldertree, said. “You have never let us starve or go bare, yet at the same time, we have never let you go without weapons or protection.”

Before Stephen could respond, Jeremy did. “I say we find a new home and migrate to there.”

“To where?” Stephen asked, raising his brows.

“Anywhere our sheep can live,” Robin said.

Henry placed his spoon down as Jeremy continued, “Let us go to our forefather’s lands. They say the Mongols are getting weaker.”

Stephen was outraged. “Whoever says that is a liar! The Mongol bandits are exactly like a hungry pack of wolves. I can’t think of—”

“Mounaterra,” Henry interrupted, a smile on his face.

Everyone fell silent as they glanced at Henry. When no one objected, he went on, his grin growing. “I heard that the prince of Mounaterra, Andreas, is gathering an army against the Crusaders.”

“What are you trying to say, Henry?” Luke asked.

“I say we send an envoy to Prince Andreas,” When Stephen frowned in confusion, Henry continued, “The envoy would say, ‘You give us land, and we will give you soldiers and weapons.’” The council visibly warmed up to the idea, encouraging Henry. “This way we can fight the Crusaders and at the same time, we’d have a place everyone will know is our home.”

Luke nodded vigorously, “We should act at once, my lord.”

Stephen looked around, “Is everyone in favor of this idea?”

When nobody objected, Stephen continued. “I find this suitable as well.”

Luke glanced at Stephen, “Okay, but who will go as our envoy, my lord?”

When Stephen drew breath to respond, he had to pause, because the tribe drums began to beat. 

They had newcomers. 

Everyone frowned in confusion as they stood, walking out of the tent. They stood on the wooden platform, Celine trotting up the steps to stand by her husband, as Duke Sebastian and his men rode into the tribe, leading their horses to stop in front of the wooden stairs. Jace, Alec, Simon, and Jem rushed to the main tent when he saw the tribe people gathering outside of there. Men, women, and children watched as Duke Sebastian scowled at Count Stephen; the council and Celine standing behind the count. “Count Stephen!” Sebastian shouted, “You should know that some tactless people in your tribe have dishonored us!”

Stephen narrowed his eyes, “The honor of the king who gave me a home to my tribe is my honor, Duke Sebastian. What have we done to dishonor King Easter and his commander?” 

Sebastian smirked and held his hand out. A man of his rode forward and gave him an ax, which at the sight of Alec blanched. 

“We found this ax on a man  _ you _ killed,” Sebastian declared, holding it out for all to see. 

Simon leaned towards Alec, “You moron, that’s yours.”

“I forgot it there,” Alec clenched his jaw, then swallowed when Henry and Luke glanced at them. 

“You ambushed an ambassador regiment and slaughtered their knights,” Sebastian declared, still looking at Stephen. “And as if that weren’t enough, you kidnapped the three prisoners the regiment was taking to the King. Surrender the prisoners immediately.”

Jace, looking lethal at the thought of handing Clary off, shook his head as Stephen replied, “You act as if you don’t know our customs, Duke Sebastian. We will not hand over our guests who have sought refuge in our tribe, especially not when they are wounded.”

Kaelie, standing next to Charlotte, noticed Jace’s relief, and looked to her sister, who shrugged.

Sebastian clenched his jaw, “I came here as the representative of the Mombert King. You will obey me as you do him. Otherwise, there will be consequences, Count Stephen.”

“We live and die with our customs, Duke Sebastian,” Stephen announced loudly. “We know the King is in charge, yet he would put the traditions of our forefathers first, then sit on his throne. A man cannot be a king if he doesn’t know how to follow customs and traditions. He cannot be a man or a king! And we have nothing to do with someone who isn’t a man. You should know this as a commander of the Great Momberts. I have said my final words to you, now be gone, Duke Sebastian!”

Sebastian began to shake in rage. “I have asked you nicely, Count Stephen. You have two days,” He growled. “If you don’t give them to us, we know how to come and get them.” Sebastian threw the ax onto the ground, embedding it into the soil as he kicked at his horse’s side, leading himself and his men out of Alicante. 

As the council headed inside, Henry leaned over to Aldertree, “What is my father trying to do?” He asked.

“Your father is too old to know what he is doing, Henry,” Aldertree sighed, going inside. 

Kaelie and Charlotte walked off, and Charlotte snorted. “I told you before that everything will be revealed about those three, and this is just the beginning.”

Kaelie couldn’t agree more.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
